


Considering the What Ifs

by RatMonarch



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Destiny, Family, Gen, Guilt, Introspection, Mid-Canon, Regret, Rewrite, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:36:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatMonarch/pseuds/RatMonarch
Summary: The first rule of being a medicine cat is to never consider the 'what ifs'.Remaining positive is a little difficult when one has had a life like Puddleshine's.
Kudos: 8





	Considering the What Ifs

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of an old work of mine by the same name. I was going to purge the original off of the Internet because it's bad and full of errors, but I kind of want to keep it now for comparison's sake. I hope you enjoy this updated version of the story, however.

Puddleshine watched as Frondpaw and Gullpaw sparred with one another, his eyes trying to keep track of their intricate movements. 

He was honestly impressed with how quick and precise the two apprentices’ moves were, neither one of them allowing the other to get the advantage. He remembered when Frondpaw and Gullpaw both were kits. At that time, they’d been nothing more than tiny scraps of fur who couldn’t even walk three steps without stumbling over their own paws. 

Now they moved with both balance and grace, their swipes and leaps done with trained expertise. 

He had no doubt that they would both grow up to be fine warriors, and that whoever was unlucky enough to face them in battle wouldn’t escape without a few scratches to remember the encounter. 

After a minute or two of being in a pure deadlock, Gullpaw jerked back to avoid a sudden swipe from Frondpaw. Unfortunately for her, that flinch gave Frondpaw the opening she was looking for. 

Lunging forward, the grey tabby she-cat bowled into Gullpaw’s chest.

Gullpaw, obviously caught off-guard, tumbled to the ground with a surprised squeal as Frondpaw dragged her down by wrapping her front paws around her neck. Within a few more moments, Frondpaw managed to get her sister into a pin. 

“That’s enough,” Slatefur, Frondpaw’s mentor and Puddleshine’s brother, called out. He was seated next to Puddleshine, a few tail-lengths away from both apprentices. 

Frondpaw immediately released the white she-cat’s wriggling form and scampered over to Slatefur. Her breath was coming out in ragged pants, but Puddleshine could see the happy glint in her eyes and didn’t miss the triumphant smile on her face. 

“How did I do?” she asked, clearly eager. Her paws shuffled in the dirt from anticipation.

Slatefur let out a purr, saying, “You did amazing. You spotted an opening and took advantage of it. Keep doing clever moves like that and you’ll be a warrior in no time.”

Frondpaw beamed so brightly that it almost hurt Puddleshine to look at. A cat who didn’t know any better could’ve easily thought Slatefur had told her she could be a warrior that very day with how happy she looked. 

Feeling the need to add something to the conversation, Puddleshine nodded and mewed, “You and Gullpaw both did an amazing job.”

Frondpaw somehow managed to look even more chipper. Practically buzzing with excitement now, she squeaked, “Thank you, Puddleshine!” 

Slatefur nodded towards the middle of the camp and said, “Why don’t you and Gullpaw go and get something to eat from the fresh-kill pile? You two have earned it.”

Frondpaw actually jumped up like a frog at that, exclaiming, “You don’t need to tell me twice! I am so hungry I could eat all the prey in the forest!” 

Then without another word, she dashed away from them, calling out Gullpaw’s name. 

Slatefur let out a sigh as he watched her go. Shaking his head, he said, “She’s so full of energy that she manages to exhaust me, sometimes. I don’t remember being that hyperactive as an apprentice…”

Despite his words, Puddleshine could see his brother’s whiskers twitching in fondness.

Purddleshine had no qualms calling him out on this. Snickering, he said, “Oh hush. You enjoy her company. I can see how proud of her you are.”

Slatefur gave his chest fur a few embarrassed licks, mumbling, “She has a way of growing on you, I admit.” 

“Mhm,” Puddleshine hummed, his tail swishing amiably on the ground. 

The two of them sat in companionable silence with one another for a few moments, before Puddleshine said, “Thank you for inviting me to watch the apprentices spar. It felt great to take a break from herbs for a little while.”

“Tell me about it,” Slatefur said, looking at Puddleshine seriously, “I think the last time I’ve ever seen you relax was when we were all kits.”

‘Like I needed the reminder,’ Puddleshine thought to himself, suddenly feeling tired. Ever since he had been forced into the position of a medicine cat by Rowanstar, he was constantly on his feet. 

Training had been a nightmare. Unlike every other medicine cat apprentice, who had moons and even seasons, to master the art of healing, he had to learn everything on a time crunch from a mentor who clearly just wanted to return back to her Clan. 

This required him being up in the late hours of the night, desperately trying to learn the name and function of every herb and how to apply them properly. 

He distinctly remembered the despair he felt some nights, convinced that he would never get all of this memorized and that he would be remembered in history as the failure who let ShadowClan down when they needed him. 

Eventually, however, he learned. The herbs, which had all looked so similar to him at the beginning, suddenly became quite distinct, either from the shape of their leaves or by their smell. All of a sudden, without much thought, he knew which herb was used for what specific wound and how to administer it. He even passed every test where he had to apply that knowledge to a sick or injured cat.

Soon, he received his medicine cat name, and just like that, he was ShadowClan’s official medicine cat. 

He had hoped things would only get simpler from there. 

Unfortunately for him though, things only got worse, both for him and ShadowClan.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a horrible bout of illness known as yellow-cough had afflicted his Clanmates. The illness was a cruel one, affecting everyone from the brittlest elders to the strongest warriors. It made them slowly waste away, in pain, and helpless.

Puddleshine had been powerless to do anything about it. It wouldn’t have mattered if he was the wisest, most experienced medicine cat in all the Clans. If he didn’t have the right herbs to heal the treatment, he couldn’t do anything else for his Clanmates except slightly ease their suffering through other methods. 

He had tried his best with what he had. He had tried new formulas, experimented with similar herbs to lungwort, just to see if they could have any effect. Unfortunately, nothing proved viable. 

He had to watch as his Clanmates died slowly, one by one, utterly helpless to do otherwise as Onestar had refused to let ShadowClan have access to WindClan’s supply of lungwort. 

Many cats’ opinions of Onestar had soured considerably after it had been revealed that Darktail was the WindClan leader’s son. However, Puddleshine’s opinion of the tom had been poor way before that.

Onestar had allowed innocent cats to suffer and die and for Puddleshine’s Clan to become weaker and weaker, all because he was too much of a mouse-heart to face his own mistake.

Puddleshine didn’t think ill-thoughts of many, but a part of him genuinely hoped and wished that Onestar was rotting in the Dark Forest right now. So many needless deaths happened due to the tabby’s cowardice. Puddleshine would never forgive him. 

Eventually, however, Harespring and others helped him get the lungwort he needed, and soon the illness disappeared. 

As he watched more and more of his Clanmates, who he had been so sure were going to join StarClan early, regain their strength and get back on their feet, Puddleshine had actually allowed himself to feel a spark of hope. 

Hope that things would return to some semblance of normal again. That perhaps the tragic passing of so many Clanmates would calm those who survived, especially the ones who were causing Rowanstar so much grief. 

But that was not the case. Soon, before he knew it, an uprising was happening amongst his Clanmates.

Rowanstar, weakened even more by his bout with yellow-cough, hadn’t been able to put up much of a fight against the much bigger and more powerful Darktail. 

And upon seeing their leader so unceremoniously defeated, his jaded Clanmates, already unhappy with what ShadowClan had become, were more than happy to abandon their Clan to join this strange new group: the Kin. 

Puddleshine had reluctantly joined as well, deciding his duty as a medicine cat was to his Clan, not Rowanstar. So whether his Clanmates wanted to call themselves ShadowClan or the Kin, it was his job to serve them. 

But Puddleshine couldn’t help but think as he watched Rowanstar, Tawnypelt, and Tigerheart get chased out of their home, that things were about to get a whole lot worse.

And he was right. 

Really, the Kin and Darktail were like a disease themselves. Malignant, affected every cat around them, and did nothing but destroy and ruin. 

Just like with the yellow-cough, Puddleshine had been forced to watch as one by one his Clanmates disappeared, either by dying from needless battles or mysteriously never showing up again. Once again, all Puddleshine could do was try to alleviate what little he could. 

Puddleshine was still amazed sometimes he survived living in that group, especially when so many of his other family members didn’t. It felt like every day, their group lost someone new, and the reason for their disappearance always seemed linked to a smaller and smaller infraction against Darktail. 

Puddleshine had done his absolute best to never slip up. He had acted subservient, always keeping his head low and doing whatever Darktail ordered without question. 

His unique position as a medicine cat had been the only thing keeping him alive, he was sure of it. He could barely hunt or fight, after all. A cat like him was usually considered a drain on resources by the rest of the Kin. However, they needed him. He was the only one who could heal them of their wounds and illnesses, which they were constantly suffering from. If he didn’t have that ability in his arsenal, he would have ‘disappeared’ as well, he was sure of it. 

But he didn’t allow his unique position to make him arrogant. As much as he wanted to challenge Darktail at times, he never did. After all, if Darktail managed to kidnap some other medicine cat, then Puddleshine could be replaced, and if he had been acting all cocky before, then he was sure to disappear soon.

If he wanted to help his Clanmates and live, he had to bend to Darktail’s will.

That was what he told himself at the time. 

However, sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder if that was true. 

Perhaps he could’ve fled when no one was looking. Violetshine, who was younger than himself, had the courage to take that course of action. So why couldn’t he?

Maybe if he had done something early on, then perhaps his siblings Lioneye and Birchbark, and his parents, Pinenose and Spikefur, would still be alive. 

He shook his head, as if tossing that line of thought away. 

There was no use getting lost in thoughts of the past and thinking what he _could’ve_ done. He had done what he thought was the best thing at the time. No amount of regret can change the past. 

‘First rule of being a medicine cat,’ he reminded himself mentally, ‘Never consider the what ifs.’ 

With the life he had now, all he could do was try and make a better future, both for himself and his Clanmates. 

He could also appreciate what he still had now. A majority of his family may not have been fortunate enough to survive Darktail’s rule, but one had, that being his brother, Slatefur. 

Slatefur suddenly ripped him out of his thoughts, meowing, “You know, just being optimistic here, but I think ShadowClan is beginning to return to normal again.”

“Has ShadowClan ever been normal since we’ve been alive?” Puddleshine asked him, flicking an ear.

Slatefur butted him lightly on the shoulder, protesting, “Hey now, you know what I mean. It’s just… I can’t help but think we are a Clan again. What a Clan is _supposed_ to be, anyways.”

Puddleshine couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. It felt like things were going the way they were supposed to. 

Tigerstar, ShadowClan’s new leader, was respected and authoritative, in ways that Rowanstar before him hadn’t been. The apprentices and warriors actually seemed to respect authority now and the horrible incident with Darktail actually seemed to birth a new feeling of community amongst them all.

Each of them had lost someone they loved or cared about during Darktail’s reign, and the shared trauma they had seemed to unite them in a strange way. Made them stronger, more trusting in one another. They knew they could rely on the others.

This, from Puddleshine’s understanding, was what ShadowClan was supposed to be like.

“Hey Puddleshine… can I ask you something?” Slatefur suddenly asked, turning his head to gaze at Puddleshine.

Puddleshine blinked at him and mewed, “Yeah, what is it?”

Slatefur paused for a moment, suddenly shifting nervously. Puddleshine couldn’t help but feel a bit intrigued at that. Slatefur was normally a pretty boisterous and confident cat. What was he so nervous about?

After a few more heartbeats, Slatefur asked, “Do you wish things could’ve been different?”

Thinking Slatefur was referring to everything that happened, Puddleshine was going to immediately reply with an, “Of course.”

However, Slatefur beat him to it, elaborating, “Do you wish you could be a warrior instead of a medicine cat?”

Puddleshine flinched a little. He hadn’t been expecting that. 

Recovering a bit, he gave a small, forced smile and lightly asked, “My, what prompted that?”

Slatefur shrugged a little, his expression suggesting he wasn’t buying Puddleshine’s look, “I dunno. It’s just that when Frondpaw and Gullpaw were sparring, I saw this weird, sort of far away look in your eyes. I used to see the same expression on your face when Lioneye, Birchbark, and I would show off the battle moves we learned to you.”

Puddleshine flinched once again. Had his eyes really shown that? For some reason, he wanted to deny it. 

He feebly tried to.

Voice shaky, he stammered, “W-What do you mean, Slatefur? Are you sure you’re not imagining things?”

“No, I’m not imagining anything,” Slatefur growled sharply, making it clear he wanted Puddleshine to knock off the act. When Puddleshine deflated a bit though at the tone, Slatefur’s voice and expression softened. 

Looking away almost awkwardly, Slatefur continued, “It’s just… I remember how badly you wanted to be a warrior when we were kits.” His green eyes suddenly flickered with something akin to pity as he said, “I also remember how sad you were when Rownastar told you that you _had_ to be a medicine cat.” 

Puddleshine nodded, but numbly mewed, “Rowanstar had to though. It was for the good-”

Slatefur cut him off by quickly saying, “Yes, yes, it was for the good of the Clan, I know that. I know why things ended up the way they did but… I don’t know. It doesn’t seem fair. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were no different from the rest of us. Surely, you should’ve gotten the chance to choose what you want to be? Surely StarClan wouldn’t want you to be sad?”

Puddleshine stared at the ground, unsure of what to say. 

Suddenly, Slatefur asked, “Do you enjoy being a medicine cat, Puddleshine?”

Puddleshine blinked, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. No cat had ever asked him that question before, and he was surprised at the fact he didn’t know the answer to that question himself.

On one paw, the job of a medicine cat was a fulfilling one. 

Healing a Clanmate, saving a life with his own paws, it all felt good. He doubted there was anything about being a warrior provided the same high. 

As a medicine cat, he was special. He provided a service no one else in the Clan could provide. 

It even felt good to know that if StarClan had a message, they’d come to him first.

But on the other paw, the job was also incredibly stressful, especially as the only medicine cat in the Clan. 

In a way, the entire Clan depended on him and him alone. They wanted him to have all the answers and solutions, not only to every medical problem, but to every infuriatingly vague message that StarClan offered. 

If he ever made a mistake, a cat could lose their life. 

Since he was not a warrior, there was always a distance amongst him and his other Clanmates. After all, they had different duties and tasks and lives to live in the Clan. 

As a medicine cat, he was also barred from great things. He could never fall in love, never raise a family, or anything like that.

When he got to thinking about stuff like that, Puddleshine couldn’t help but feel depressed. It was in that depression, he wondered things like why StarClan placed this burden on him?

After all, if StarClan could send Twigbranch and Violetshine down to save the Clans, why couldn’t they have also sent down a kit who _wanted_ to be a medicine cat to take his place? Why couldn’t he be a warrior with his siblings?

Maybe if he knew how to fight, he could’ve helped his Clanmates. Maybe he could’ve saved his mother from having her throat ripped open. Maybe he could’ve saved Birchbark and Lioneye from being victims to Darktail and his goons.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

As a warrior, he could’ve one day taken a mate and they could’ve had kits of their own, and they would grow up getting to choose whatever they wanted to be, be it the path of a warrior or the path of a medicine cat. 

He could have friendships, _real_ friendships with his Clanmates as a warrior. 

He could live his life running free in the pine forest, catching prey and setting border markers. 

He could be honorable.

A feeling of familiar longing filled Puddleshine’s heart, but he quickly suppressed it. There was nothing he could do now. Rowanstar and StarClan had made their decision in regards to him and his destiny. 

To wish for something else would just be selfish. 

Turning his head to Slatefur, he said, “There is a rule we medicine cats have Slatefur, and that is to never consider the what ifs.”

Then standing up, he turned and said, “Now, if you excuse me, I need to organize my herb stock.”

With that, he padded away. Slatefur didn’t say anything to stop him, though Puddleshine could feel his brother’s sad gaze following him. 

His heart felt heavier than a stone, but Puddleshine forced his paws to continue moving despite it.

After all, StarClan had given him a duty and he had to fulfill it.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel really bad for Puddleshine. Hey, Erin Hunters! Stop forcing cats who don't want to be medicine cats into the medicine cat den! 
> 
> Anyway, first fic of the new year! Hurray! I hope you all enjoyed and as always, critique is appreciated. 
> 
> Sorry if everything isn't entirely canonically accurate. I tried my best, but it's been a while since I've read A Vision of Shadows so I might have botched a few things. Just consider it a misremember from Puddleshine, not me! LOL.


End file.
